The night carried on, and the music in the background thumped rhythmically, mingling with laughter and voices. Quinn was in her element—effortlessly flitting from one group to the next, engaging in playful banter and teasing the guys with her trademark charm. She wasn't just the life of the party; she *owned* it.
Ava and Jayden were right beside her, laughing along, basking in the good energy. But Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that Quinn wasn't truly *with* them. Her smiles weren't reaching her eyes when she glanced at him, and her attention kept darting elsewhere, often onto other men. He couldn't decide if it was the alcohol or the emotional walls she'd built up between them, but either way, the distance was suffocating.
Ethan stood at the periphery of the party, nursing his drink, watching Quinn with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He had seen her at her best, at her most carefree, but tonight something felt different. The laughter that used to be an invitation to join in now felt like an impenetrable wall. The flirtatiousness she threw around like confetti didn't make him feel special anymore. It made him feel invisible.
As Quinn continued to flutter from one conversation to the next, she spotted a familiar face in the crowd—a guy she had known for a while, but hadn't talked to in ages. He made his way over, grinning widely.
"Quinn! Didn't think I'd see you here tonight," he said, his eyes sparkling.
Quinn's smile was instant, warm, and inviting. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises," she teased, leaning in slightly to hear him better over the music.
Ethan watched as Quinn interacted with this guy. Her body language was open, engaging. She was leaning in just a little too close, laughing a little too easily. His jaw clenched, and he resisted the urge to step forward and interrupt the conversation. She wasn't his anymore—not really, not in the way she had been before.
He could see the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke to him, a kind of carefree energy that he hadn't seen directed at him in weeks. The sight of it twisted something inside him.
Quinn wasn't even aware of the way Ethan's gaze followed her every move. She was too wrapped up in the moment, in the fun, in the joy of being the center of attention again. It felt like a relief. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed this—her friends, her life, the freedom to flirt without any emotional strings. There was no need to explain herself, no need to pretend.
As the night wore on, the volume of conversation increased, the laughter becoming louder, more carefree. Quinn wasn't concerned with the implications of her actions, or the way Ethan was watching her from the other side of the room. She didn't care. She had learned to protect herself from the pain that had come with him. He wasn't her responsibility anymore.
But Ethan wasn't so easily dismissed.
His thoughts were a tangle of frustration and confusion. He hated the way he felt right now—like an outsider in her world, like someone who was just another face in the crowd. He hadn't felt this way when they first started their arrangement. Back then, there had been something between them, something real. It wasn't just a contract. It wasn't just for show. He had truly felt a connection with Quinn, and now... now, she felt like a stranger.
He couldn't just let it go.
At one point, after another round of laughter between Quinn and the guy, Ethan's patience broke. He had to talk to her—right now, before he went crazy.
He made his way through the crowd, deliberately stepping closer to where Quinn stood, still lost in conversation. She noticed him before he had even reached her, and when she finally turned around, her face registered no surprise, no emotion—just the same polite smile she had been flashing everyone else all night.
"Ethan," she greeted him, her voice even, without the warmth he had once come to expect.
"Quinn," he said, his tone softer than he intended. "We need to talk."
Quinn raised an eyebrow, taking a step back. "About what?" she asked, her voice flat. "You're here at the party. I'm here. We're both talking, so... What's the big deal?"
Ethan glanced at the guy Quinn had been talking to, who was still standing there, smiling like he was on top of the world. That damn smile. It made Ethan's blood boil. He couldn't stand it.
"Can we step outside for a minute?" he asked, his voice low, controlled.
Quinn looked him up and down, a smirk tugging at her lips. "No need for a dramatic exit, Ethan," she said, clearly dismissing him in front of everyone. "But if you really want to talk, we can. Just not right now. Not here."
She made her way back to the group of people she had been hanging out with, leaving Ethan standing alone in the midst of the party, his thoughts spinning.
---
The hours seemed to stretch on endlessly. Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that Quinn was deliberately avoiding him, every glance she gave him tinged with indifference. She was surrounded by laughter and conversations, yet the one person she used to make time for was now the one she ignored.
Finally, when the party began winding down, Quinn slipped away without a word to anyone, making her exit with Ava and Jayden in tow. Ethan stayed behind for a few more minutes, unable to bring himself to leave the party until he knew where things stood with Quinn. But by the time he stepped out of the door, she was already gone.
---
Days passed, and Ethan couldn't get Quinn out of his head. Her sudden coldness had knocked the wind out of him, and he had no idea how to fix it. He had tried everything: texting her, calling her, even showing up unannounced at her condo once. But nothing worked. She remained distant, like she was purposely building a fortress around herself.
And the worst part? He didn't know how to tear it down.
As for Quinn, she had enjoyed her night, but when she saw Ethan standing there, a mix of hurt and frustration written on his face, something inside her shifted. But she wasn't going to let herself care. She had been hurt too many times before. It was easier this way—easier to pretend she didn't feel anything than to risk being vulnerable again.
Quinn had built walls, yes—but she knew deep down that those walls weren't meant for everyone. They were meant for him.
And as the night ended, the one person who used to hold a place in her heart was now the one she kept at arm's length. The unspoken distance between them had never felt more real.